Don't Touch My Stuff, Gobber
by WatUCWatIC
Summary: "I sure love that part of you. You rarely ever show it." "The part where I steal people's limbs? Yeah. I try not to." Encouraged by The Dragon1010's comment.


**The Dragon1010 wants a humour story? He's getting a humour story god dammit!  
><strong>**Umm...**

**So. Onvce upon a- crap. I messed up[. I cant type for a flip...**

**Okay, I'll take it seriously now. :)  
><strong>**First of all: Happy Thanksgiving. It is (kind of) for me anyway. I'm so bored though. I haven't spent anytime with my family. My mom's going on a date. My uncle went to a party without me. I had work. Meh.  
><strong>**I'm getting bored of all the YouTube videos I've watched ( though DomFera's movies are a new and likable twist) and I've run out of Avenger fanfictions that star Tony Stark (because apparently, I'm a big whump fan). Did anybody know what whump was before? I didn't...**

**It's cold, by the way.**

**Second of all: As you have read, The Dragon1010 commented, and I quote,**

**"Great story, BTW you should try writing a humor story  
>THE DRAGON1010"<strong>

**And I thought, why the hell not. Pardon my language, but I've recently discovered cursing is actually quite amusing and should be fine in a T rated story. If this humour story comes out T, then I'll keep the curses. That'll be fan-fucking-tastic.  
><strong>**If it comes out K+ or just K then I'll erase all the dirty language and these paragraphs will have been meaningless.**

**Still cold. Let's go!**

**Do you guys remember that part in "New Goal" from my "Watching Your Fate Change" watching the movie fic? Just before Zero comes in? Here, lemme remind you:**

**"Where is that?" Astrid asks.**

**"It's the blacksmith stall," Gobber answers as if it were obvious. "That's the room Hiccup likes to plan and make his inventions at."**

**"Wait a second. You actually encourage him!?"**

**"Gods no. He just got tired of the work space I was taking up with my sketches. He also tried throwing them away but I managed," he showed a satisfied (slightly mischievous) smile nobody'd seen before and his hand reached the back of his neck, as if sheepish.**

**"The Hel he did. He took me damn peg until I told him where I put them."**

**"Don't touch my stuff Gobber," Hiccup said, absolutely serious, his smile gone.**

**Gobber shudders at the memories, and Clara can't help but start laughing. The sadistic twins start laughing as well, and Snotlout finds himself chuckling in confusion, along with other Vikings. The dragons are left watching the humans, wondering if they're sane.**

**"Aha," Clara recovered from her outburst. "I sure love that part of you. You rarely ever show it." Or, you used to rarely ever show it. It was hard to think in time-travel.**

**"The part where I steal people's limbs? Yeah. I try not to-"**

**"Nonono! I mean the part that's so," she struggled for words. "Hiccup."**

**"'Hiccup'?" He raised a brow.**

**"It's not bad! The very opposite, actually. You handled your inventions carefully, because they meant the world for you. You go overboard and end up doing something stupid, crazy or both, just trying to protect something that means the world to you. You even-"**

**"Ah. Spoilers Clara."**

**Yeah. I particularly liked that scene because I made up the Hiccup-steals-Gobber's-peg on the spot. Every other tid-bit I have in that story (complete, in case you're interested) is something I've already planned/written.**

**So. Now I want a story about it. Gosh, this AN takes up two pages. I bet the story's only gonna be one...**

* * *

><p>Hiccup tried not to steal Gobber's peg leg and arm for his own amusement when he was younger. He succeeded and even managed to consider it a bad habit to let his eyes stray to Gobber's prosthetic limbs and think of ways to play with them.<p>

Despite the fact that little Hiccup was a very not-obedient boy (because miscreant was just a hard word to pronounce back then), he tried to never get on Gobber's bad side.

However, if Gobber got on his bad side; that was another story.

Gobber was cheerfully singing when thirteen-year old Hiccup came in that morning. Gobber being happy enough to sing was a - thankfully - rare occasion.

"I've got my axe and I've got mah mace and I've got mah wife with the ugly face! I'm a Viking through and through!"

Hiccup covered his ears in horror. Once the smith had paused his singing to catch his breath, he spoke (hopefully pausing the singing eternally).

"What's got you so happy Gobber?"

Hiccup gingerly took out his notebook, ignoring some swords, axes and apron on his table, instead walking to the curtain at the very back of the room.

Planning a invention took only a while, and Hiccup worked at a fast pace. He had no intention of checking over his plans. He wanted to get this on a big sheet of paper and immediately start building it.

_That might've been why most of his inventions failed, actually, but he didn't think anything of it._

Instead of being greeted by a crowded room filled with plans, unorganized and incredibly dangerous inventions as well as a spare pencil he kept in there, he was greeted by a seemingly larger room. Empty room with only a bare desk.

Instant panic took Hiccup over.

"Uh Gobber!" Hiccup turned around to warn his father's best friend about hooligans and thieves. "Someone- someone stole! My stuff! My-" He stopped.

Gobber was grinning, looking well-aware of Hiccup's situation and seemingly glad.

"Gobber?"

Gobber turned around and got back to working on a sword, pounding the hammer away. He hummed joyfully.

Hiccup's jaw dropped.

_I can't believe it._ Gobber had stolen his life. His purpose. Everything within that room had been his. He'd thought of it, he'd built it, he'd owned it! Now it was gone!

"Gobber. Where's my stuff?"

"Ohoho," The smith gave him a very Viking-like laugh, filled with mischief and strangely cryptic, "I wouldn't worry about that anymore lad."

_Loki._ It just had to be Loki reincarnated. There was no other explanation for what Gobber had just done. Why else would he take all of Hiccup's stuff!?

_It definitely wasn't because he destroyed half the village every time he tested an invention on the field. Definitely not._

But, instead of taking revenge, Hiccup got to work.

"Okay," he said, nodding. His mouth caved in, making him look lip-less. A very Hiccup look, that meant he was trying not to let another emotion reign. It meant he was going to be _neutral_.

Gobber grinned, glad the boy wasn't fighting back. Usually Hiccup could be very disobedient, and although Vikings encouraged stubbornness; they preferred it when children respected their elders.

Gobber sang all day long.

* * *

><p>Hiccup never took on a challenge he knew he wouldn't be able to win. Thawfest was forced on him. Besides; second place? Coming on top of the twins, Fishlegs and Astrid? Okay. The twins didn't count and Fishlegs as well as Astrid just had rotten luck, but still!<p>

Hiccup knew he was smart. Not Fishlegs smart, but ingenious. He was creative and curious about things that didn't involve him. He knew how to pick a lock, he liked to draw strange objects out of nowhere, he always had a strange invention for Trader Johann to trade in for another strange one and finding his way around the woods was no problem.

Yes, Hiccup was a curious fellow with an interest in what was none of his beeswax.

However, he also never thought things through. Very rarely did one of his plans succeed. He'd never caught a troll, never slain a dragon, never made his father proud enough to give him the damn helmet, because Odin just kept finding odd places to give him goodies! No, Hiccup rarely had a good plan, though he had enough strange and unnecessary qualities to last a lifetime.

Picking a lock was one of those qualities that proved to serve only one purpose in his life's entirety. Meaning, he was probably destined to pick this _one_ lock.

Gobber's house had no strange contraptions like Hiccup's room and the smithie, though you would think it would have at least spare rubble all around. No. Gobber liked to keep the metal and work tools back at the blacksmith's stall.

Gobber's lock was probably the most complex contraption in his house. It took Hiccup less than a full minute to pick it and enter through the well-oiled door.

Gobber had a nice house. Very rarely did Hiccup visit it, much less sneak in, but he always liked the smell of burning wood and oil that came with the regular Viking odor. Gobber? Gobber smelled horrendously (putting Hiccup's middle name to shame) but he spent enough time out of his house to keep it nice and clean-smelling.

Hiccup continued to walk, glad Gobber felt the need to keep his house in the best shape he could. He was a blacksmith with a perfectionist problem that almost never came out, but when it did... Boy, this house was _clean_! Why couldn't Gobber keep the smithie this organized?

Hiccup stopped his mental complaining, spotting the prized object. Gobber's peg leg. Many of them, actually. Not within Gobber's reach, however.

Hiccup guessed it made sense for someone with only one good leg to keep various around, in case the other burned of or something. He'd never thought of it (who could picture Hiccup, of all people, with a prosthetic leg?), but maybe he should have.

The boy sneaked further into the house. It had one floor, so Gobber had to be in the room next to the table.

A light snore proved it.

_Wait._ Gobber snored lightly?

Hiccup rolled his eyes, annoyed by that fact. Of course the one Viking in the entire universe with a light snore had to be a solitary sleeper. Every other kid and wife slept with a growler next to them (and usually even the husbands had to take the growling as well); Every house in this damned village was packed with roars of snoring, but _this one house_ wasn't. Lucky house.

Maybe he should sneak in more often? Take a nap and just sneak back into his own house while his father still thundered in his sleep.

Finally, Hiccup made it to the snoring figure. Its mustache moved slightly with every breath, and a silent whistle formed in each exhale.

A peg leg was resting on an empty chair by his side, looking all too still and unused.

Hiccup grabbed it, thinking only of his dear plans and weapons. How _dare_ Gobber take them?

The thirteen-year old decided he was starting his rebellious years (because he hadn't been in those since he was 10. Oh no, not at all). He would have never thought of sneaking into a crazy loudmouth's house _before_.

Back at the entrance of the house stood Hiccup with five prosthetic legs to prove he'd do anything for his inventions.

The boy was still awake, however, and had no wish to sleep yet. The prosthetic legs were also starting to look pretty amusing as well.

A mischievous grin took over his face.

* * *

><p>Hiccup was asleep at the foot of Gobber's front door. Being a slightly light sleeper (it took only a nudge to wake him up, or a loud noise, but never let it be said he'd been dumped off his bed to make sure he was awake) he woke up at the sound of Gobber's loud exclamation.<p>

Apparently, Gobber could hop on one foot. How well balanced. Hiccup made a mental note: Next time, he'd do something against the mustache.

Yes, he expected a next time.

"Hiccup?" Gobber yelled, finding the boy clutching his prosthetics. "What are you doing? Hand me mah leg!"

Hiccup continued to smile, humming a familiar tune.

Gobber's frown deepened, recognizing the tune as his favorite song to sing when he was especially happy.

"Hiccup," he started cautiously.

"Yes Gobber?"

"Give me mah leg." Make it sound serious (which it was. He wasn't hopping on one leg for the rest of the week!). Hiccup had never quite disobeyed Gobber. Sure, a command his father had given him before was fine to ignore, but Gobber's own demands?

"No." Hiccup kept a sweet smile, before letting his hand reach for the door.

"Hiccup!"

Hiccup paused. "Yes?"

An intense moment passed, and Gobber let his glare drop, admitting defeat.

"They're under my bed. All of them."

"Really!?" Hiccup's faced brightened up eerily, but the smith was already terrified by his apprentice's actions.

_Loki._ It just had to be Loki reincarnated into Hiccup. Why else would Hiccup have gone as far as to steal his peg leg and spares (incapacitating him) for a few (all of his) inventions and life's work? It just made no sense to Gobber.

"Yes. They're all there. Just hand me mah leg! My foot's getting tired!"

Gobber also noted that the chairs (all three of them) were on the other side of the room, closer to Hiccup than him.

_Loki._

Hiccup dropped the legs (Gobber will deny any frightened squeals) and ran towards Gobber, turning just in time to pass the elder and enter the room. Indeed, all of Hiccup's belongings were under his bed. How'd they all fit? He'd never know.

Once Hiccup was out of the house - there was a cart just waiting for him to gather his stuff outside - Gobber hop-raced to his legs, which were still on the floor.

He grabbed one. A piece fell off. Another, and soon, the entire thing was separated into seven pieces.

The second one, he realized, had objects nailed onto it, declaring it impossible to wear.

The third and fourth one were completely banged up. Had he drummed on them or something?!

Only the fifth one looked wearable, but even that one had dirt on it. He'd have to clean it before wearing it, because hygiene was yet another quirk this smith had. Well, to an extent. He still despised bathing.

Speaking of quirks, Gobber was known the most for his loud voice.

"HIC_CUUUUUUUP_!"

Hiccup gave yet another eerie smile and began to sing.

"I've got my axe and I've got my mace and I've got my wife with an ugly face. I'm a Viking through and through."

_What do you know? Singing _does_ come naturally when you're happy._

Hiccup will forever remember the night when he snuck into Gobber's house, finally got to play with his prosthetic legs, and managed to get his stuff back in one go. He doubted Gobber would ever forget it. _What a nice day._

Hiccup sang all day long.

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><p><strong>And I'm done. That only took an hour... Hmm. Turns out the fanfic was longer than the AN. Nice.<strong>

**I'd like to think younger Hiccup's mind strays from topic to topic despite his goals. Maybe that's why he never checks over his plans on weapons and stuff. Also, I ran out of different identities for these two. Apprentice, boy, thirteen-year old, Hiccup, smith, father's best friend, elder, Gobber. Geez. So many titles.**

**Also, I'm guess Hiccup's upset with his dad in this fic, because he never mentions a dad. Just father. He's entering his (more) rebellious years, so that makes sense :)**

**Also, I use "also" a lot and had to delete it from my ANs and stories too many times to count.**

**Story title: "Don't touch my stuff, Gobber." Cuz, you know, quotes.**

**I don't think this is the type of humour Dragon1010 wanted, and I apologize for that, but I also wanted to thank you for that comment. I enjoyed writing this myself :D**

**See ya**


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